


Every Night You Stay (I’ll Be Watching You)

by velvetjinx



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky Barnes Has Nightmares, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2018, First Kiss, M/M, Pining, Rated T for swearing, steve loves bucky a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 23:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14758493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetjinx/pseuds/velvetjinx
Summary: Steve finally finds Bucky again, a few weeks after they’ve taken down Hydra. Having Bucky back was his dream, and now it’s a reality Steve doesn’t quite know how to handle it. But when Steve can't sleep after comforting Bucky from a nightmare, he can’t help getting out his sketch pad and drawing Bucky's familiar face, and now it’s becoming a habit that he just can’t break. As long as Bucky doesn’t find out, he figures he’ll be okay. But then, when did Steve Rogers ever have any kind of luck?





	Every Night You Stay (I’ll Be Watching You)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Art](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/383717) by Threadberry. 



> First of all, my artist Threadberry was a delight to work with. Thank you!!!
> 
> Next to leveragehunters for the amazing beta, and mystrana for the help with my summary. 
> 
> To the CapRBB slack chat for their encouragement and general awesomeness, and to the bang mods for being generally amazing.

Steve couldn’t stop poring over the translation of Bucky’s HYDRA file. He knew it by heart already, but he couldn’t help think that if he just read it again, there might be some clue as to where Bucky might be. 

Natasha flopped down on the sofa beside him. “Anything?”

Steve shook his head. “I mean, he basically spent the last seventy years being a ghost. How am I supposed to find someone like that?”

“You never know,” Natasha said quietly. “You might get lucky.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” But Steve had his doubts. He wasn’t exactly a lucky guy. 

***

Natasha liked to have the radio tuned to the emergency services’ frequencies just in case, which Steve thought was a little weird, though he’d never tell Natasha so. Besides, it was background noise as he pottered around the kitchen, making himself a coffee with too much milk. 

He’d mostly tuned the radio out when something caught his attention. 

_“Mount Sinai, please be advised we are bringing in a vagrant who collapsed on the street near Prospect Park. Vagrant has a metal prosthetic arm that appears to be functional.”_

Steve’s eyes widened. “Bucky,” he whispered, before dashing for the elevator, grabbing his jacket on the way. 

***

He parked his motorcycle outside Mount Sinai hospital and ran inside, screeching to a halt at the reception desk. 

“Hi, I’m, uh, looking for someone I believe was brought in today?”

“What’s their name?”

“James Buchanan Barnes, but he goes by Bucky. He has a metal arm?”

The receptionist’s eyes widened. “We were wondering who he was! He’s been unconscious since they brought him in.” She narrowed her eyes. “You family?”

“The closest thing he’s got, yeah.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but if you’re not family…”

Steve sighed. He hated what he was about to do, but if it got him in there… “Don’t you recognize me?” he asked softly, and the receptionist stared at him for a moment before gasping. 

“Are you… Captain America?” she squeaked. 

He gave her a half smile and put his finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone?”

“Of course, sir! Uh, I can tell you where he is, no problem!” She gave him somewhat complicated directions to the ward Bucky was in. “I’ll call ahead and let them know his brother is on his way up,” she said, winking, and Steve grinned at her. 

“Thank you,” he said gratefully, and walked quickly to the ward. 

When he got there, they let him through without issue, and he found himself staring down at the face of his best friend. 

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked the nurse quietly. 

“Dehydration and malnourishment,” the nurse replied. “He’s on a drip to replenish his fluids, and we’ve been giving him vitamin injections. If he doesn’t wake up soon we’ll start tube feeding him, but it’s best if he can eat himself.” She paused. “Why was he in such a state?”

Steve thought fast. “He has some mental health issues,” he replied. “He doesn’t always take his medication.”

“I see. Well, you’re welcome to sit with him for now. We’re hoping he’ll wake up soon, and it would be good for him to see a familiar face.”

The nurse left, and Steve sat down on Bucky’s right hand side, taking his hand and holding it. “Come on, Buck,” he murmured. “Wake up for me. I can’t lose you again.”

A few hours passed. The nurse and doctor came in to check on Bucky, then left again. 

Steve was in the middle of reading a magazine article about some celebrity he didn’t know when he became aware of movement from the bed. His head shot up, and his eyes locked with Bucky’s. 

And it was Bucky. Not the Winter Soldier, no. This was Bucky, with eyes like a trapped animal, full of fear. 

“Buck?” Steve said softly, as Bucky’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. 

“Steve?”

“Oh my god, Bucky, you had me worried for a while there,” Steve said, smiling, but Bucky didn’t smile back. 

“Where am I?”

“You’re in a hospital. You collapsed from dehydration and malnourishment. Why didn’t you come find me when you knew who I was?”

Bucky shrugged. “I know you’re Steve. I, uh, read about you in a museum.”

Steve’s heart sank until he noticed Bucky’s expression. “Maybe you did, but you know me anyway.” Bucky said nothing. “Why did you pull me from the river?”

“I don’t know.”

Steve laughed quietly. “You always were a shitty liar, Buck.”

“Steve, I…” Bucky screwed his face up. “I don’t know what to say, or where to start.”

“How about starting with what you were doing living on the streets instead of coming to me?”

Bucky gaped. “That’s… Steve, I tried to kill you!”

“And?” Steve shrugged. “You weren’t you. As soon as you realized who I was, you saved me from drowning. You should have come to me.” He tried to keep his voice gently chiding, but the words came out harsher, more angry than he’d hoped. 

Bucky winced. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me,” he said quietly.

“I told you,” Steve said softly, grasping Bucky’s hand. “I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.”

Bucky swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he croaked.

“Anyway, I’m gonna call the doctor in to check on you. I probably should have done that as soon as you woke up,” Steve added guiltily. “Sorry.”

“You’re such a dope,” Bucky said, and there was just enough fondness in his voice to make Steve look up.

Steve cleared his throat and pressed the buzzer for the nurse, and she came bustling in, eyes widening when she saw that Bucky was awake. “Let me just get the doctor!” she said, and ran out, returning quickly with the doctor. 

The doctor smiled at Bucky. “Hi, there!” she said brightly, checking the clipboard. “We’re just going to check your blood pressure and things, okay?” Steve moved back as the doctor and nurse did their thing, then the doctor nodded. “Okay, that all seems fine. We’re going to keep you in a while until we’ve got your fluids back up.”

“How long?” Bucky asked. 

“That all depends on how quickly you recover.”

Bucky frowned. “I really wanna get out of here.”

“You will,” Steve reassured him. “And when you do you’re coming to stay with me. No arguments,” he said, seeing Bucky open his mouth. “You’re staying in my spare room.”

“Okay, but in that case, can’t I go now?” Bucky asked the doctor.

“When you’ve finished this drip we’ll talk about it,” the doctor replied, smiling. “Not a fan of hospitals, huh?”

“Really not,” Bucky responded dully, and oh god, it suddenly occurred to Steve that it probably reminded him of Zola’s lab. 

“Well, I don’t see why we can’t discharge you into your brother’s care once we’ve got your fluids back up,” the doctor said cheerfully. Bucky shot Steve a questioning look, and Steve glared a warning at him. “As long as you promise to do as he says and not get out of bed for a few days.”

“Fine,” Bucky agreed, though if they’d been kids Steve would have suspected him of crossing his fingers behind his back. 

“Okay. We’ll come back in a half an hour to check you over, and then you should be good to go!” The doctor smiled brightly.

“Thanks, doc,” Steve said quickly, and the doctor nodded and left with the nurse.

“Brother?” Bucky murmured when they were out of earshot.

“I had to say something to get in here,” Steve replied, grinning.

“Some things never change,” Bucky said, trying to look serious, though Steve could see his lips twitching. 

“Hey, what are you implying?” Steve asked in mock outrage.

“Implying? I’m downright telling you, pal. You’re as much trouble as you’ve ever been.” Bucky’s face fell and he visibly retreated into himself. “Sorry.”

“Why?” Steve responded. “Buck, you don’t have to apologize for giving me a hard time. I’d think it was weird if you didn’t.” Steve smiled at him, and Bucky gave him a weak smile back. Steve could understand—Bucky had been brainwashed for so many years, kept in cryo when he wasn’t needed, and now he was just getting used to living as Bucky again. It had to be a hell of an adjustment. 

“Thanks for letting me stay with you,” Bucky said suddenly, startling Steve out of his reverie. “You, uh, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Steve replied. “I want to.” Bucky smiled nervously at him, and Steve’s heart suddenly hurt. He cleared his throat. “So, uh.”

“Steve,” Bucky said gently. “You don’t have to force it. I’m not… I don’t really know who I am right now, but I really appreciate…” He frowned. “I just mean—” 

“I know what you mean.” Steve smiled at him, and Bucky smiled back. 

***

When the doctor returned, it was with good news. “You’re a lot better than I’d have expected you to be,” she told him as she removed the drip from his arm, “so I think you’re good to get out of here, if you want.”

“Thank you,” Bucky responded gratefully. 

“Now I don’t want to see you back in here,” the doctor said sternly. “So you listen to your brother, okay?”

“Sure, of course.”

The doctor nodded. “Your clothes are on the side there.” She turned to Steve. “Feed him as soon as you get home, but nothing too heavy yet. No pizza. Soups, things like that, okay?”

Steve nodded. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. When you’re ready just go to the desk and sign the discharge papers, and you’ll be good to go.”

Bucky and Steve thanked her again, and she left. The nurse came in, and Steve looked away as she took out Bucky's catheter. When he looked up again, Bucky was blushing, but he didn’t comment on it. 

“I’ll let you get dressed,” he said quickly. “Unless you need any help?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I think I can dress myself, thanks, Steve.”

“I’m sure you can,” Steve replied hurriedly. “I’ll, uh, go get started on those discharge papers.”

By the time they were ready to leave it was dark out, and Steve led Bucky down to where his bike was parked. 

Bucky stared at it. 

“You got a license for that thing?”

Steve huffed. “Yes? Kinda? Look shut up and get on the damn bike.”

“‘Kinda’ isn’t ‘yes’, Steve,” Bucky grumbled, but did as he was told, getting on the bike behind Steve. Steve felt his stomach swoop as Bucky’s arms tightened around his waist, but he ignored the feeling and drove off towards his apartment. He was just glad to have his friend back. That was all. He was over those old feelings now. 

When they arrived, Bucky looked around, whistling. “Nice place,” he said, and Steve shrugged.

“Well, _someone_ wrecked my apartment in DC, so I figured it was time to come home,” he said, grinning, but his face fell when he saw Bucky’s anguished look. “Hey,” he said softly, striding up to Bucky. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, stop it, okay? It wasn’t Bucky who did those things. It wasn’t you. So quit it, okay?”

Bucky shook his head. “But I did it, Steve. I still did it. God help me.”

Bucky had started to shake, and Steve did the only thing he could think to do—he wrapped his friend in a tight hug. He could feel Bucky clinging to him like a lifeline, burying his face in Steve’s neck, and Steve’s arms tightened even more around him. 

After a few moments, Bucky pulled back, wiping furiously at his eyes. 

“Come on,” Steve said gently. “I’ll make us some soup.”

Bucky was quiet throughout dinner, but he managed to eat most of his soup and keep it down, which Steve was glad about. After dinner, Bucky yawned wide. 

“You tired?” Steve asked, and Bucky nodded. 

“Yeah, I am pretty beat.”

“Yeah, you should probably get some sleep,” Steve said. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

He took Bucky through to the spare room, which was pretty sparsely decorated since Steve didn’t really have many people to stay. There was a bed, and a chest of drawers, which had his shield propped up against it. It wasn’t exactly very welcoming. 

As if he could hear Steve’s thoughts, Bucky turned to him, smiling. “This is great, Steve. Thank you.”

Steve shrugged, embarrassed. “Do you need anything?”

Bucky looked up at the bright streetlight shining in from outside the window at the head of the bed. “Weird question, but you don’t have an eye mask, do you?” he asked hesitantly. “I tend to need it pretty dark to sleep.”

“Uh, I think I have one somewhere? I’ll go check.”

Steve looked through his drawers, eventually finding an eye mask he’d taken from a long haul airplane journey. He took it through to Bucky, who accepted it with a smile. “Thanks, Steve.”

“No problem. Well, uh, goodnight! Sleep well!” Steve said awkwardly, before leaving Bucky to it. He went through to his own bedroom and sighed. _You’re being stupid,_ he chided himself. _It’s just Bucky. Your best friend._ But he couldn’t shake the awkwardness he felt. 

Sighing, he got ready for bed and climbed in, asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

***

Steve’s eyes flew open and he tensed at the low noise in his apartment. _Bucky,_ his brain supplied, and he got up, tiptoeing through to Bucky’s bedroom. 

Bucky was tossing and turning on the bed, moaning softly. He was obviously in the middle of a nightmare. Steve gently shook him awake, and Bucky suddenly sat up, metal hand grasping Steve’s throat as the other tore off the eye mask, before his eyes cleared and he gasped, letting go. 

“Oh my god, Steve, are you okay?” he asked, panicked, and Steve nodded, rubbing his throat. 

“I’m fine, Buck,” he croaked. Bucky looked at him, grief-stricken. 

“You’re not, I could have strangled you, oh my god what am I?” he muttered in distress, and Steve sat next to him on the bed, ignoring Bucky’s flinch and pulling him into a hug. 

“You’re Bucky, and you’re gonna be okay,” Steve said softly. He let go, smiling slightly at his friend. “You were having a nightmare so I thought I should wake you up.”

Bucky nodded. “I was dreaming about HYDRA.” He didn’t say any more, but Steve could imagine. 

“You okay to go back to sleep?” Steve asked, and Bucky shrugged. 

“I guess.”

Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand. “Okay. Sleep well.”

He returned to his own bed, but found sleep difficult. He grabbed his sketchbook off the bedside table, along with a pencil, and crept back to Bucky’s room. Bucky was sound asleep again already, and Steve sat in the chair beside him, settling in to watch him sleep. It was soothing, watching the slow rise and fall of Bucky’s chest, knowing that he was alive and here with Steve. 

Steve put pencil to paper, and began to sketch an outline; before he realized what he was doing, Bucky sleeping began to appear under the scratching of the lead. It felt good to be sketching Bucky from life again, like he used to back when he was in art school and needed a model. 

He drew until he lost track of time; until he was yawning into the back of his hand. He looked down at his sketch and smiled, before heading quietly back to his own bed. 

He lay down, a smile on his face, and was asleep within moments. 

***

Steve awoke the next morning to the incessant buzzing of his phone, and blinked blearily before answering. 

“H’lo?”

 _“Steve, where the shit are you?”_ Natasha’s angry voice said through the speaker, and Steve yawned, confused. 

“What?”

_“We had a meeting at eight a.m.? Which you were supposed to be at?”_

Steve pulled the phone away from his ear to look at the time. 8.45. Shit. 

“Sorry, Natasha, I had kind of a late night. I have, uh, a visitor.”

There was a moment of silence. Then: _“Are you trying to tell me you got laid?”_

“What? No! I mean…” Steve lowered his voice. “I mean I found him. Bucky.”

_“Holy shit, Steve, are you kidding? I’ll be right over!”_

Before Steve could tell her no, she had ended the call, and Steve swore at the cellphone as there was a timid knock on his door. He opened it to see Bucky on the other side, smiling nervously. 

“Hey, Steve. Is it okay if I have a shower?” Bucky asked slowly. “I still smell like hospital.”

“Of course! Towels are in the bathroom closet. Though you should probably go straight back to bed after. You know what the doctor said.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Steve. I don’t need you to baby me. If I feel like I need to lie down I will, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve agreed. He led Bucky through and handed him a towel, before leaving him to it.

Steve dressed quickly himself, and a few minutes later the doorbell rang over the sound of running water from the bathroom. He opened the door and Natasha pushed past him.

“Well? Where is he?”

Steve gave her a look. “He’s taking a shower. Are you going to be weird about this?”

“Weird? What do you mean, weird? This guy shot me. And you know all the other stuff he did. And you’ve, what, just invited him back to live with you?” Natasha asked in an urgent whisper.

“He’s Bucky,” Steve replied, shrugging. “He’s my best friend, Natasha.”

“Was. Was your best friend. Who knows what he is now.”

The bathroom door opened and Bucky came out, a towel wrapped around his waist. He stopped short when he saw Natasha, completely missing the naked want on Steve’s face at the sight of Bucky in only a towel, water dripping from his hair down his muscled torso. 

“Um?”

Steve cleared his throat. “Buck, this is Natasha. She’s a friend. Natasha, Bucky.”

“And what, I’m supposed to shake his hand?” Natasha asked, narrowing her eyes. 

Bucky blanched. “I should, uh, put some clothes on.”

“You can wear some of mine,” Steve told him. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks,” Bucky muttered, heading through to Steve’s bedroom.

Steve turned to Natasha, glaring. “What the hell, Natasha?”

“I’m not going to play nice with a HYDRA asset, Steve,” Natasha said angrily. “You are way out of line here.”

“I’m way out of line? Natasha, you knew I was looking for him. You knew I wanted to find him. You didn’t say anything then.”

“Because I didn’t think you’d find him! He’s a liability, Steve. A criminal.”

“No he’s not,” Steve argued. “He was brainwashed into doing what HYDRA wanted. He did none of that of his own free will. Now if you can’t accept that, feel free to leave.”

Natasha stared at him, and Steve stared back. After a few moments, Natasha sighed. “Fine. Okay, fine. I’ll play nice. But I want an apology from your boy.”

“Apology for what?” Bucky asked as he came out of Steve’s room, fully dressed and towelling his hair dry. Steve felt his stomach swoop again at the sight of Bucky in his clothes.

Natasha pulled up her shirt and pulled her pants down, just enough to show off her scar. “Apology for shooting me to get to the guy I was protecting.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry. Fuck.” He turned to Steve. “Maybe I shouldn’t stay here.”

“Shut up, Buck, you’re not going anywhere.” Steve looked at Natasha. “You happy now?”

She shrugged. “It’ll do for now. What are you going to do about—”

“We’ll deal with that when we have to,” Steve interrupted her, knowing exactly what she was going to say but not wanting Bucky to hear it. “I’m not saying this will be easy, but Bucky’s been through a hell of a lot, and I’m not letting him deal with it on his own.”

Natasha sighed. “Fine. So what are you going to do?”

“Right now?” Steve asked. “Right now I’m thinking the diner around the corner for waffles. You joining us?”

Natasha stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, why not.”

“Uh, you got any gloves, Steve?” Bucky asked quietly. “I don’t really want to draw attention to myself.” He held up his metal hand, and Steve nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, they’re in my bottom drawer of my chest.”

Bucky went to find the gloves, and Natasha looked at Steve, lips twitching.

“Waffles, huh?”

Steve grinned.

***

Breakfast was awkward, although not as awkward as Steve had anticipated. He and Natasha chatted away about what he had missed at the meeting that morning, as well as their last mission, while Bucky listened in silence, eating waffles and drinking about five cups of black coffee with a ridiculous amount of sugar. 

When they’d finished, Steve insisted on paying, despite Natasha’s amused looks. 

“You coming to the Tower?” she asked as they left the diner.

Steve shook his head. “I’m gonna spend the day with Bucky. It’s not like you need me there.”

“True. We’ll call you if something comes up.” She hugged Steve, kissing him on the cheek and murmuring, “Be careful,” into his ear. She turned to Bucky. “Nice to meet you, Barnes,” she said, her expression unsmiling, and Bucky gave her a weak smile in return.

“You too. And, uh, sorry. Again.”

Natasha nodded and walked away, leaving Steve and Bucky standing awkwardly in the street. 

“So, uh. Wanna go back to the apartment and watch some old movies?” Steve asked.

Bucky grinned. “How about some new movies? I’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

Steve grinned back.

***

Bucky loved _Die Hard_. 

“Man, that movie was great!” he enthused as the credits rolled. 

“It’s Natasha’s favorite Christmas movie,” Steve responded, laughing.

“I can see why. They really don’t make movies like they used to, and I’m really not complaining.”

“It’s great, right? What do you want to watch next?”

Bucky shrugged. “Something futuristic?”

“I know just the one.” Steve picked up _The Fifth Element_. “It’s got the same guy in it, but this movie is completely different.”

“No explosions?”

“Oh, no, lots of explosions. It’s just different.”

Bucky laughed, and Steve couldn’t help but smile to hear it. 

***

That night, Steve tossed and turned, unable to sleep, too tuned in to listening for another of Bucky’s nightmares to sleep. Eventually he gave up, grabbing his sketchbook and pencil and creeping through to Bucky’s room. Bucky was sound asleep on his back again, and Steve sat carefully on the chair, trying his best not to make any noise. 

He set his sketch pad on his lap and began to draw. This time he deliberately set out to draw his friend, pencil mapping the contours of Bucky’s face almost by instinct.

Bucky moved slightly in his sleep, mumbling quietly, and Steve froze. But Bucky didn’t wake, instead breathing deeply as he slumbered peacefully on. Steve let out the breath he was holding and kept drawing. 

When he had finished his sketch, he was starting to get tired, so he went back through to his bedroom and lay down. He was aware of the softness of the pillow beneath his head; the next thing he knew there was a knock on his door and sunlight was streaming through the window. 

He rubbed his eyes before blinking them open with a yawn. “Yeah?” he called. 

The door opened and Bucky peeked in. “Uh, hey. Can I borrow some more clothes?”

“Of course you can,” Steve replied through another wide yawn. “Help yourself. Though we should probably go shopping for you today.”

“I, uh. I don’t have any money,” Bucky said, blushing. 

“I know. I have.” When Bucky opened his mouth to protest, Steve frowned. “No arguments. You can pay me back when you can.”

Steve had no intention of taking any money off of Bucky ever, but it was the right thing to say as Bucky’s brow cleared. “Thanks, Steve.”

 _I’d do anything for you,_ Steve almost said, but kept himself in check. “No problem,” he said instead. 

Bucky nodded and came in, taking some clothes out for himself and holding up the pile. “Thanks.”

Steve waved at him as he left the room, then flopped back on the pillow, pinching the bridge of his nose. Fuck. 

He showered quickly and dressed, then headed out to the open plan kitchen-living room where Bucky was sitting, book in hand. 

“What are you reading?” Steve asked softly, and Bucky held it up. _The Thirteenth Tale_. “Oh, yeah, I loved that one. A really good mystery.”

“It’s great so far.” Bucky carefully marked the page with a scrap of paper and smiled at Steve. “What are we doing for breakfast this morning?”

“Waffles and coffee again? Although considering I was supposed to keep you on light foods for a few days that could be a bad idea.”

“Steve,” Bucky said patiently. “I’m fine. I heal quick too, remember?”

“I know,” Steve said, shrugging. “I just don’t want you to get sick again.”

“I won’t. Now come on, I’m starving, and waffles sound like the best idea ever.”

***

After breakfast, they headed into Manhattan, hitting the men’s clothing stores with gusto. When they’d finished, Bucky had the beginnings of a pretty awesome wardrobe, and Steve promised himself he’d find more storage space for Bucky’s stuff. 

They spent the rest of the day hanging out and talking about Steve’s life since he’d woken up from the ice. Occasionally they touched on the war, but Bucky never spoke about his time as the Winter Soldier. Steve didn’t push. He figured Bucky would talk when he was ready. 

That night, Steve didn’t even bother getting changed for bed; he just waited until Bucky was asleep before sidling into his bedroom, sketchbook in hand. He knew what he was doing was almost creepy, but he felt comforted by Bucky’s nearness. He sighed as he drew. This had to stop. 

***

Steve didn’t stop. 

Every night for the next week, he would tiptoe into Bucky’s bedroom as he slept, and draw his friend in slumber. He tried not to think too much about his motives—if he did, he knew he’d have to admit to himself that he was still in love with Bucky, just as he’d always been, even though Bucky wasn’t in love with him. 

Steve had carried a torch for Bucky since they were kids, but Bucky never found out; or, if he had, he’d never told Steve. But he’d also never shown any signs of returning the sentiment, and so Steve had locked his feelings away as best he could. Now they threatened to come out, and he couldn’t let them. Not now. Not while Bucky was still recovering from what HYDRA had done to him. 

One night, exactly a week after Bucky had come home with Steve, he was sitting sketching by his friend’s bedside when he shifted and knocked over his shield. The shield fell with a clang, and Bucky sat bolt upright, pushing the eye mask up onto the top of his head. 

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them slowly, to see Bucky looking at him curiously. 

“Steve? What are you doing in here?”

“I, uh, I thought you were having another nightmare,” Steve lied quickly. 

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “I’m not the only one who’s a shit liar, Steve.”

Steve sighed. “Look, don’t freak out, okay? I was worried about you, so I started sitting in here for a while just in case you did have nightmares, but it was comforting for me, too.”

Bucky nodded, then his eyes fell on Steve’s sketchbook. “And what’s that?”

Steve looked down, eyes widening. “Uhhhh…”

“You’re still drawing? Can I see?” 

“Buck, I don’t think you wanna—”

“Steve. Please?”

Steve sighed and handed over the sketchbook, and Bucky flipped through the pages, brow furrowed. When he looked up, there was an unasked question in his eyes. 

“I just. It was just like old times, when I used to draw you before the war,” Steve said quietly.

“You never drew me when I was asleep, though,” Bucky replied. 

“No.” Steve’s mouth twisted. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”

He walked quickly from Bucky’s room, curling up in bed and wishing he could just disappear. 

A few moments later, Bucky knocked lightly at the door, before entering. 

“Steve,” he said softly. “Why didn’t you just ask me if you could draw me? You know, when I was awake?”

Steve shrugged. “You’re so peaceful when you’re sleeping. It was comforting. Besides, I didn’t want to make you feel like… like I was expecting the old Bucky back.”

Bucky sat next to Steve on the bed. “But I’d know that anyway, Steve.” He looked down at the comforter. “You’ve never pushed me. Not once.”

He looked up at Steve, eyes wide and full of something that Steve couldn’t identify, and he couldn’t help it—he leaned forward and pressed their lips together. 

Bucky didn’t respond. 

Steve pulled back, cursing internally. “God, Buck, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, fuck, I’m sorry. If you want I’ll help you look for a new place in the morning.”

“Steve,” Bucky said, his tone slightly strangled. “Why did you just kiss me?”

“Why does anyone kiss anyone?” Steve asked, shrugging. Bucky looked at him patiently. “Okay, fine. I’m in love with you,” Steve mumbled. “I think I always have been. And now I have you back, finally, and I’ve ruined things between us already.”

Bucky cupped Steve’s face in his palm. “Steve. Kiss me again.”

Steve stared at him, thunderstruck. “What?” 

“If you want something done right…” Bucky said, huffing, before leaning in and kissing Steve deeply. 

Steve moaned into the kiss, his arms coming up to wind around Bucky’s neck, and he felt Bucky smile against his lips. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky asked at length, drawing back. 

“I didn’t think you’d want me like that,” Steve confessed. 

Bucky gave him an indulgent look. “Steve. It’s you. How could I not want you? I’ve been in love with you forever, too. I just didn’t know how to tell you without ruining our friendship.”

“You mean that all this time…” Steve shook his head. “You know what, I’m not even going to think like that. So… where do we go from here?” 

Bucky laughed. “Well, for one thing, I’m not sleeping in your spare room any more. You’re stuck with me now, pal.”

Steve kissed him again. “That sounds perfect.”


End file.
